


but there's a light on (and i know i should be home)

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Archie Andrews/Jellybean Jones (background), Betty Cooper/Reggie Mantle (background), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: riverdale high's ten year reunion brings jughead jones home for the first time in years.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	but there's a light on (and i know i should be home)

**Author's Note:**

> another one of those things that i posted and then deleted and have rewritten. it's definitely twice as long and hints at things that probably could have turned this fic into something really long and outlandish but i feel good about it now. so. it is what it is. i hope y'all still enjoy it.

He stares at the email and pulls at his bottom lip. It’s not unheard of. Attending one’s ten year reunion. It could be fun. He could see the Serpents at the very least. Try to see the Serpents even if he wasn’t sure how many he was still on speaking terms with. Of course, there was Archie and Jellybean and his dad. There were plenty of reasons to go back to Riverdale for a weekend.

“Betty?” he calls out. “Did you get the reunion email?” 

“You know I did. I’m the one who forwarded it to you, Jug,” she says, coming into the office. She puts a hand on his shoulder and one on her hip, reading the email as well. “I already told Kevin that I was going. Archie will be there, too. I think Josie and Reggie might even be making the trek back from LA for it.”

“Oh great, the old gang back together again,” he deadpans. Betty scoffs and rolls her eyes. “What?”

“I don’t know why you act like high school was so terrible, Jughead,” Betty replies.

“Maybe it was all the death and murder?” he asks. 

“It wasn’t all bad, though,” Betty mutters and he flinches a little. She gives him a half smile that doesn’t reassure him at all. They broke up years ago but it still stings to remember the way everything fell apart senior year. “I mean. There were good things. We made it out, after all. That’s more than some people can say.”

Jason. Dilton. Midge. Joaquin. Ethel. Evelyn. Jughead sighs and tries to push the ghosts of their classmates away. 

“Going back to Riverdale has never really been on my agenda is all that I’m saying,” Jughead says slowly. He leans back in the chair and puts his hands on his head. Betty turns to rest against the desk and crosses her arms.

“Something you’ve made perfectly clear when you refuse to come home with me for the holidays,” Betty says. 

“Both my dad and Jellybean enjoy the change of scenery,” he says, waving towards the window and the view of Mt. Rainier. “Something other than maple trees. Something other than the Southside.”

“I’m not asking you to go, Jug. I know your reasons,” Betty says, shrugging her shoulders. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll be gone that weekend.”

“I’ll make sure to take care of the plants, Betty,” he says with a tight lipped smile. “Are you bringing whatshisname?” 

“Ryan and I ended things last week,” Betty says with a practiced shrug. He doesn’t buy it and he’s not sure why she thinks he would. “Look. I don’t want to talk about it. Veronica and I have already done the ice cream and cry routine.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Serpent jacket and threats,” Jughead offers with raised eyebrows. 

“Jesus, don’t make me laugh,” Betty says with a roll of her eyes. “If that’s what I wanted, I’d do it myself. I still have my jacket in the back of my closet.”

Jughead makes a face at the image of her wearing that old thing again. It didn’t suit her then, he doubts it would suit her now. She laughs at him and kicks at his chair a little. She leans forward and cups his cheek, “It would be nice, though. To have you there with us. Remembering the good stuff. Please?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks, Juggie,” she says softly, the old nickname feeling fond for the first time in a long time, before she kisses his forehead. She stands up and goes towards the hall. “Oh and Veronica will be there, too, of course.”

“Gee, Betty, you’re really selling me on this whole reunion thing,” Jughead replies as he goes back to cleaning out his inbox.

“Don’t be mean.”

“Just honest.”

“Mean.”

“Honest.”

“Mean.”

# -

He decides to go. He’s sure that in the long run he’ll regret it but the smile on Betty’s face and the unreadable string of emojis from both Archie and Jellybean is worth it. He reminds himself to try and teach her how to properly text. She spends too much time with Archie to have learned how to form a coherent sentence that doesn’t include emojis instead of words. He doesn’t tell his dad, deciding on the element of surprise for the old man. 

He does text Toni and isn’t surprised when she doesn’t text back. The burnt bridge from the Pretty Poison days hasn’t been fully rebuilt in the last decade but he knows she got the message, knows she’ll pass it along to Sweetpea and Fangs and Jinx and whoever else is still in town. He’s not going to ask for much more than that. Knows better than to ask for more than that. He’s just happy that he isn’t still on her blocked list.

He can’t afford to take off more than a long weekend from work but Betty insists that it’s fine. The reunion is planned for a holiday weekend anyways, just in time for the annual maple tapping Jughead notices. They Uber to the airport and Archie picks them up when they land. 

“No JB to greet the prodigal son returning?” Jughead asks as he climbs into Archie’s truck. He doesn’t know how Archie’s kept it running all of these years without Betty there to do the maintenance. 

“She’s working a shift at the Wyrm,” Archie says with a shrug. “Couldn’t get someone to cover for her.”

“She’s still working at that dump?” Jughead says with a frown. “I thought she was trying to get a gig at Le Bonne Nuit?”

“Nah, she gave that up a while ago,” Archie says, shifting in his seat. He looks at Jughead out of the corner of his eye. “Said something about the Southside still being home and all that.”

“The Wyrm isn’t that bad,” Betty interjects, trying to avoid an awkward conversation. “I mean, we spent our fair share of time there back in the day.”

“And how well did that work out for us?” Jughead grumbles.

“Besides, Toni owns it now and most of the staff are Poisons or ex-Serpents,” Betty continues even if she isn’t exactly helping the matter. “She’s perfectly safe.”

“Excuse me for not exactly being thrilled that my baby sister is hanging out with a bunch of gang members,” Jughead snaps. It takes all of two seconds for his words to sink in and he groans. Archie is already smirking and Betty has her lips pressed together to try and smother the laugh that’s coming out of her nose. “Shut up. Both of you.”

“I mean, she grew up with the Serpents,” Archie says. “Any surprise that she feels most comfortable surrounded by the Poisons.”

“As long as she’s not trying to join,” Jughead mutters. “Think she’s seen enough to know that joining is never a good idea.”

“She’s not as dumb as her brother,” Archie says with a laugh. “Her words. Not mine. You’re still the second smartest person I know, Jug.”

“Second?”

“I’m first, obviously,” Betty says before turning up the radio and rolling down her window. 

The rest of the drive is quiet except for the occasional sing along that comes from Betty and Archie in intervals. They pass by the same landmarks that Jughead has known his entire life. They drop him off at the entrance to Sunnyside on their way to the Northside. Archie offers him the guest bedroom at his house but Jughead declines, knows that he owes it to his dad to stay at the trailer even if it is cramped. 

Betty promises to call him first thing in the morning and reminds him to check his email for the reunion itinerary. He waves her off, staring at the long drive towards the trailer. It’s not the one he grew up in. That one had gone up in flames thanks to his own attempts to do the right thing. What he thought was the right thing. It hadn’t worked like most of his plans back then, hadn’t done anything to run the Ghoulies out of town, to break his mom’s hold on the drug trade. 

Jughead shakes his head and tries to forget those shitty memories. They aren’t going to do anything now, aren’t going to make it any easier He shows up on his dad’s steps and actually knocks instead of just barging in. FP opens the door slowly and peers down at him before breaking into a large smile. He steps back and beckons his son inside. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” FP asks pulling Jughead into a hug. Jughead laughs and hugs him back one-handed until he drops his bag. “Could have called ahead and warned a guy.”

“Wanted to see the look on your face,” Jughead says with a laugh. He pulls away and inspects his dad’s face. He looks so much older than the last time Jughead saw him. Which, Jughead realizes, was nearly a year ago at Christmas. “It’s the ten year reunion.”

“Shit. Ten years?” FP asks, shaking his head. “You’re making me feel old, kid.”

“Pretty sure that’s just the passage of time,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. He moves past FP into the trailer and isn’t surprised to see that it hasn’t changed much in the years that he’s been gone. “Jellybean still staying with Mom?”

FP nods and rolls his eyes. He scratches the back of his neck and wanders into the kitchen. Jughead follows after him, noticing the little touches of Gladys that still exist in the trailer. He’s sure that his mother spends enough nights here even with the house on Elm St. FP offers him a mug of coffee and Jughead accepts with a grateful smile. 

“How long you in town for?” FP asks, resting his hip against the counter. “When’s this reunion?”

“Just the long weekend,” Jughead says with a shrug. “It’s just a dance on Saturday night. A brunch thing on Sunday, I think. Nothing too fussy.”

“Still surprised that you came back,” FP says with a small smirk. “Never thought I’d see the day that Jughead Jones came back to Riverdale. Thought only a funeral could bring you back.”

Jughead swallows a mouthful of coffee, trying not to choke on the heat and how strong it is. FP’s never been good at brewing coffee. He’s not surprised to see that hasn’t changed much over the years. He’s gotten too used to the various coffee shops that he frequents in Portland even if all he orders is a basic black drip coffee.

“You gonna go by the Wyrm?” FP asks, raising his eyebrows. Jughead sighs and rolls his eyes. “Boy, it’s been ten years. When you gonna fix things with Toni?”

“Would you ever forgive the person who kicked you out of the Serpents?” Jughead asks, raising both eyebrows. FP frowns and looks away. “Exactly.”

“She was family to you once,” FP says slowly. “You don’t turn your back on family.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything to that. Knows that there’s nothing he could say that isn’t laced with bitterness and anger that still runs through his veins whenever he thinks about those first couple of years of high school. FP’s cleaned up his act in the decade since Jughead graduated but they’ve never talked about what a shit father he used to be.

He doesn’t let himself think about his mom and the gaping wound that is their relationship. 

FP lets out a slow breath and sips from his mug. His eyes are distant and Jughead thinks that he’s having the same mental conversation that Jughead is having, remembering the same hurts that lives in the Jones family. It doesn’t stop him from continuing though, “I know what it’s like to let your pride get in the way of family, of making things right. Don’t waste this chance, boy. You’ll end up regretting it.”

“Wish you’d stop calling me boy,” Jughead mutters.

“Wish you’d stop acting like one,” FP snaps back, eyebrows raised in a challenge. Jughead frowns and clenches his fist. “You know I’m right.” 

“Maybe she’ll be at the reunion,” Jughead concedes. He’s never going to admit to FP being right. Not in this life at least.

“Yeah,” FP agrees with a frown. He drinks from his mug again and Jughead does the same. It’s yet another stalemate that Jughead can add to the list. “Whatever you say, Jug.”

# -

He can’t sleep that night. The pullout couch is too lumpy and the sounds of the trailer park at night too loud. Portland is a bigger city than Riverdale, without a doubt, but it’s quiet at night. Here there’s the sound of bikes rolling in and out, laughter and screaming, slamming trailer doors. He remembers when that all used to soothe him to sleep, when the quiet of Elm Street when he stayed over with Archie or Betty was too eerie and still for him to properly sleep. 

After tossing and turning for hours, he calls it quits and gets out of bed. It’s still muggy and hot even though it’s October. He hasn’t missed the long summers of the east coast, that’s for sure. He doesn’t bother with a jacket as he gets dressed to leave the trailer. He’s debating going to Pop’s and getting the burger that had fed him all through high school. The nostalgia of it all would probably kill him but it would be a tasty death. 

Once he’s outside though the lights from the Wyrm call to him. It’s neon glow reaches to the trailer park, each letter glowing steadily in the night. He pauses just inside the parking lot. He doesn’t know if he should go in, if he’d be welcomed or thrown back out on his ass. There aren’t any cars or bikes in the lot but the lights are on inside and he’s never known the Wyrm to lock its doors regardless of whether or not their open. Jughead can’t help but be pleased that that policy hasn’t changed when he steps inside.

The feeling of the Wyrm hasn’t changed. It’s still grungy and dark. Not somewhere you bring a nice girl for a night out but definitely somewhere to pick up a not-so-nice girl for a good time. There are some changes, updated features, a new paint job, repaired pool tables, that indicate just how good business must be but, overall, it’s the same place where he spent so much of high school. Good memories and bad ones fight for his attention but he ignores them all. Now’s the time and this is definitely not the place. 

He’s not surprised to see Peaches behind the bar but Jughead Jones standing in the doorway is enough to make her do a double take. He sighs and walks up to the bar with as much confidence as he can muster. She doesn’t return his friendly smile. Again, he’s not surprised. Her face stays just as passive as he remembers, eyes looking him up and down slowly. Eventually she just raises her eyebrows, waiting for whatever it is he has to say. 

“Peaches,” he says with a nod. They weren’t friendly in high school. He’s not going to pretend that ten years away has changed anything and she’s not either. “Toni around?”

“She is,” she says with a nod but she makes no move to get her. 

“Can I see her?” he asks after a long moment of silence. 

“What do you want?” she asks, crossing her arms. “Poisons and Serpents have an understanding. I won’t allow any trouble.”

“Jesus, Peaches, I’m not a Serpent anymore. You know that,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. 

“Once a snake, always a snake,” she says with a shrug. 

“It’s reunion weekend,” Jughead explains. He’s losing his patience. There’s no reason for Peaches to distrust him like this. Not anymore. Jughead Jones burning out of the Serpents was a well-known fact in Riverdale - especially with the Poisons. 

“Right,” she says, narrowing her eyes. When he doesn’t flinch under her glare she sighs. “She’s upstairs. She already knows you’re here.”

Jughead almost asks but Peaches just points to the camera in the corner of the bar. He nods and heads towards the back stairwell that leads to the office. He can feel Peaches watching him the entire way up to the office but he doesn’t turn back to her. 

The door to the office is open, a faint light pouring into the dark hallway. There’s music playing, something smooth and soulful, and for a second he considers turning around and heading back to the trailer. But he can still feel Peaches staring at him even though he’s out of her line of vision. It’s stupid but he refuses to walk past her only seconds after coming up here. He has some pride still left. He almost just walks in like he would have done in highschool but he stops himself and knocks on the open door before stepping in, “Toni?”

“Welcome home, Jones,” she says. She doesn’t move from her chair, doesn’t even look up from the ancient computer that’s been there as long as Jughead can remember. She waves him in all the same, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. Jughead sits down and tries to shake the feeling that he’s been sent to the principal’s office for skipping school. “Don’t look so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Jughead says, sitting up straighter. Toni finally looks away from the computer just to raise an eyebrow at him. She doesn’t believe him. Considering the way his knee is bouncing, he wouldn’t believe him either. “Peaches wasn’t exactly welcoming.”

“Well, when the former leader of a rival gang decides to make a housecall,” Toni says with a sigh. “You can’t really blame her for being paranoid.”

“She said that there’s a truce between the Poisons and the Serpents,” Jughead says. “Not sure what I could do to disrupt that. Especially since I’m not a Serpent anymore, remember?”

“You have a habit of stirring up trouble wherever you go, Jughead Jones,” Toni says, looking over him quickly. “Besides, you’re a Serpent by blood. You can shed the skin but it doesn’t change what you are.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Jughead almost snaps. His voice is even by just a hair and Toni notices. She smiles a little and tilts her head. “But I had a habit. It’s been a decade, Toni. People change.”

“Not that much,” she says a little too quickly. She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “So, why are you here, Jughead?”

“Dad thought it was time to mend old wounds.”

“You taking relationship advice from your old man, now?” Toni asks with a small smirk. Jughead rolls his eyes and nods a bit. “Why?”

“We were family, Toni,” he says softly. “You were one of my best friends.”

“And then you kicked me out of the gang that I introduced you to,” Toni says, cutting him off. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” he says through clenched teeth. “Is that we were friends once. Any chance of it happening again?”

“Jughead,” she says, leaning forward. Her big, brown eyes are sad and he knows her answer without her having to say anything. “It’s been a long time. A long time and a lot of hurt that isn’t going to just disappear because you decided that you finally missed me enough to reach out.”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. He leans back in the chair, running a hand over his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Why are you really here, Jughead?” Toni asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “You live on the other side of the country. Haven’t looked back once since you left Riverdale for college. Don’t tell me you’ve been bitten by the nostalgia bug just because of the reunion?”

“And if I said that was it? Just nostalgia rearing its ugly head?” Jughead asks. 

He looks anywhere else that he can, anywhere other than Toni. The wall behind her desk is covered in framed photos. He recognizes the Poisons, posing in front of the Wyrm with their jackets on. There’s one where Sweetpea and Fangs are holding Toni sideways like a plank of wood. They’re all laughing, eyes bright with joy. Cheryl and Toni at prom and then with Veronica at Le Bonne Nuit for the after party. The Vixens, minus Betty. An old family photo of Toni and the uncle who liked to kick her out on a regular basis. Archie and Toni posing with hardhats and hammers in front of the stage downstairs, dust and smiles on their faces.

He notices the absence of himself up there.

He can feel Toni watching him for a long minute, eyes searching his face, but he doesn’t give into the urge to watch her back. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for, doesn’t know if she finds it. She shakes her head and looks down at her desk, “Who could have imagined that this is where we’d end up? On opposite sides of the desk?”

“Tell me about it,” Jughead says with a groan. He looks at her, finally giving in and meeting her eyes, and sees how tired she is. Too tired considering they haven’t even hit thirty yet. “What happened to us, Topaz?”

“This town happened,” she says with a bitter smile. He has a flash of his mother, of the look of her face when she said she was snatching the American dream. It’s not a favorable comparison. “But you got out. You should stay out, Jughead. Riverdale isn’t good for you and you aren’t good for Riverdale.”

“Trust me,” Jughead says with a laugh that’s just a little too bitter. “I am fully aware of that.”

“But you came home anyways,” she says. It’s not a question but Jughead can hear it all the same.

“We’ve all got to come home sometime, Topaz,” he says softly. 

“Just took you ten years to do it,” she replies. 

They’re quiet for a minute, remembering or just existing in the same space without any expectations. Jughead isn’t sure which is true. He supposes that it doesn’t really matter. Toni sighs and stands up. Jughead does the same and tries to hide his shock when she moves around the desk and wraps her arms around him in a hug. He finds himself eagerly returning it, holding her close. He really has missed her over the years, missed her steadiness and her grit. It feels good to hug her again. 

“Welcome back, Jones,” she mumbles into his chest. “Welcome home.”

# -

Pop’s hasn’t changed in the decade that he’s been gone. The outside, at least. When he goes through the door, he can see all the renovations that Veronica has done over the years. But what stands out more than anything is the absence of Pop Tate behind the counter. In his place is the owner of the past decade, Veronica Lodge. 

“Jughead Jones, as I live and breathe,” she says, tossing a dishrag over her shoulder. Her hair is pulled up into a high bun and the mustard yellow uniform still hugs her every curve perfectly. He ignores the part of him that wants to shy away from that observation. They aren’t sixteen and dating each other’s best friend anymore.

“Veronica. Long time, no see,” he says with a nod as he sits down at the counter. She slides him a menu, a small smirk on her face, before she rests her elbow on the counter with her chin cradled in her palm. He tries not to fidget under her searching eyes. “What?”

“Never thought I’d see you here again,” she says completely honest. He chuckles a little and raises his eyebrows. “Then again, out of all of us, I also thought you’d never leave.”

“So, you’ve gotten used to being wrong then?” he asks as he frowns at the menu. It hasn’t changed much. Smaller than it was in high school but the staples are still there. When Veronica doesn’t reply, he looks up at her. Her eyes are sparkling with amusement and she’s smiling brightly. “What?”

“I’ve missed you, Forsythe,” she says, shaking her head. She covers the menu with her hand and his eyes track up her forearm, makes a mental note of the scar that wasn’t there in high school, before looking her in the eye. “I’ll get your usual.”

“I haven’t been here in a decade,” Jughead says with a dry laugh. “How do you know I still like the same thing?”

“Maybe the fact that you’re still wearing that beanie?” she asks, tilting her head a little. He reaches up self consciously and adjusts his hat. Her eyes are still laughing at him but there isn’t any menace behind it. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your order ready.”

“Thanks, Ronnie,” he mutters without thinking. She blinks at the nickname and his throat grows tight with nerves. He’s never used her nickname before and he honestly doesn’t know what makes him use it now. 

“Sure thing, Torombolo,” she replies with a smirk. 

He huffs at the nickname, remembers the last time she called him that and that stupid egg. It dims the moment just a bit, remembering that shitty fucking year, but her eyes are still sparkling and it keeps him grounded. The bell above the door rings and she holds up a finger as she goes to deal with the new customer. 

Jughead pulls his hat off and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t usually wear it anymore but he’d pulled it on that morning despite how warm the day was turning out to be. He’d been wearing it since the airport. He hadn’t thought twice about pulling it onto his head when he got off the plane. There was just something about being back in Riverdale that made him need it on his head again. 

Betty had just raised her eyebrows but she didn’t say anything. Neither did Archie or his dad. Hell, even Toni hadn’t made a comment about it. He’s not surprised that it’s Veronica who would say something. 

A few minutes pass before Veronica brings him a double cheeseburger with swiss and all the fixings, curly fries, and a chocolate shake. Jughead shakes his head and plucks the cherry off of his shake. Veronica leans over the counter again, resuming her previous pose. She plucks a fry off his plate and bites through, teeth sharp and pressed into a vicious smile. 

“So,” she says, finishing off the fry. “Tell me everything about Portland.”

“What don’t you already know from Betty?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His hair curls into his eye and he scrapes it back with a hand. Veronica watches the motion with a curious eye and he almost puts his hat back on because of it. “I mean, you guys Skype every week.”

“And yet I know nothing about your life,” she says with a shrug. “I know Betty’s Portland. I want to hear about Jughead’s.”

He narrows his eyes at her and she just widens hers in mock innocence. He bites into his burger and nods, “Alright. Well there isn’t much to tell.”

There really isn’t much to tell. He works at a local magazine, writes articles and manages the social media accounts. Veronica laughs at that, head tilted back and her throat flexing. Jughead finds himself staring again but he doesn’t stop. She looks good, happy even. Carefree in a way that none of them were in high school. When she’s done laughing, she waves for him to continue. 

“There isn’t much more,” Jughead says with a shrug. “I work. I hang out with Betty. Drink way too much coffee.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and smiles at him fondly, “And the next great American novel? How’s that coming along? Update me on your book, Jones.”

“I haven’t,” Jughead says, he scratches the back of his neck and shoves a handful of fries in his mouth. “I haven’t actually worked on it since high school.”

Veronica’s face drops, disappointment coloring her features. Jughead feels bad for letting her down and then feels stupid for feeling bad. He sucks down half his milkshake and keeps his eyes on his plate while he waits for Veronica to say something. He’s gearing up for some biting remark, something snarky and half-way to mean, reminiscent of their old dynamic. 

“That’s pretty sad, Jughead,” Veronica says finally but there’s nothing biting about it. “It was your baby. You were always working on it.”

“Yeah, well, got a little distracted senior year,” Jughead mutters. He takes a bite out of his burger, sips his milkshake, keeps himself from looking up at Veronica. She reaches out to grab his forearm, though, dragging his attention to her directly. There’s no pity on her face, no regret or guilt for how things went down the year they finally got Hiram Lodge’s claws out of Riverdale, just a quiet understanding. “Really, Veronica, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Well, _ I _ think it’s a big deal,” she says. “You should get back to it. I mean, your articles are great and everything but we both know your heart’s not really in it.”

“You read my articles?” Jughead asks. 

He cringes internally at the awe in his voice. He knows that later, when he’s trying and failing to fall asleep in the trailer, that’ll he obsessively dissect his reactions to Veronica Lodge. He’ll relive this conversation over and over until it’s meaningless, wondering just what it is about her _ now _ that he finds so damn intriguing. He’ll pretend that these reactions, this urge to just watch her every move, is something new, something that he didn’t feel in high school, even though he knows that isn’t true.

“Naturally,” she says with a shrug. “Betty told me what magazine you work for when you first got the job.”

“So you did know about my Portland,” Jughead accuses though he’s teasing. She graces him with one of her winning smiles and his stomach flips over. 

“Yes,” she concedes. “Partially. But I wanted to hear about it from you. You have a unique voice, Forsythe.”

“Okay. That’s like the fourth nice thing you’ve said to me today,” Jughead says, holding his hands up. He tries to laugh through the butterflies in his stomach but it’s barely working. “Who are you and what did you do with Veronica Lodge?”

She rolls her eyes and purses her lips. He’s staring again. The bell rings above the door and a group of loud teenagers stumble in, backpacks slung over their shoulders. She glances at them for a second before looking back at Jughead, something he can’t quite recognize in her eyes. She squeezes his forearm gently before starting to walk away, leaving his arm tingling from her touch and says over her shoulder, “It’s been ten years, Jughead. People change.”

# -

Jughead meets Betty at Archie’s house on Elm Street. He doesn’t bother knocking on the door before walking into the living room. He’s been through this door so many times throughout his life, it feels like walking into the trailer, like coming home. Archie is sitting on the couch, arm slung over Jellybean’s shoulders, and laughing loudly at something someone said. He presses his face to Jellybean’s neck and Jughead rolls his eyes at the sight.

It’s not something he’s used to seeing. He knows about it, of course. Archie had called before anything happened, had confessed like it was some horrid crime. Jughead had laughed and then properly threatened him in the way only a big brother can. Three months without having to see it made it all seem a little less real. 

“Jughead!” Jellybean shouts, turning towards the door. She’s over the couch in a second, leaving Archie floundering, and throwing her arms around his neck. “You would creep in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jughead mutters, wrapping her up in a hug. She pulls away and tugs at the collar of his jacket, inspecting the dark gray button up beneath. He raises his eyebrows. “Approve?”

“It’s okay,” she says with a shrug. “At least you’re not wearing your beanie.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” he replies, pushing her hat over her eyes. He drags her into the living room with him. He’s surprised when he sees Veronica sitting across from Archie. “Hey.”

“Hey stranger,” she says with a small smile. He feels himself start to smile back until Jellybean elbows him in the side. Veronica chuckles a little and her cheeks turn a bit pink. “You excited for tonight?” 

“Excited to be surrounded by my old high school classmates?” Jughead asks with a grimace. He shoves his hands in his pockets when Jellybean clambers back over the couch and back into Archie’s embrace. “Not exactly.”

“Why even go then?” Jellybean asks. She kicks her legs up over the end of the couch and rests her head on Archie’s lap. Archie, God bless the man, blushes, his cheeks matching his hair almost. 

“Because he’s the best roommate ever,” Betty says as she comes in from the kitchen holding a beer. She sips from it casually and tilts her head a little. She frowns just the tiniest bit, eyes flicking between Jughead and Veronica. He’s staring again and he’s been caught at it. “Aren’t you, Juggie?”

“The very best,” he says, turning away from Veronica and throwing an arm around Betty’s shoulders. He blatantly ignores the unasked question on Betty’s face when she sips her beer. She’s always been too observant for her own good. He can feel Veronica watching the interaction with too much interest, actually staring back the same way he had just been staring. He doesn’t like it. He turns to Jellybean for an out. “JB - smoke?”

“God yes!” she says, shooting up from the couch. She grabs Jughead’s arm and drags him towards the backyard. “I’ve been waiting for this day for, like, years.”

“What?” he asks, ignoring Archie and Betty’s complaints. Veronica, he notes, is silent. “You’ve been waiting for what day?”

“The day we finally get high together,” Jellybean says like it’s obvious. 

She pauses by the back door, pulling open the top cabinet to pull out a small jar and bong. She quickly backs a bowl and pockets a lighter before ushering him outside. He’s not even surprised at how quickly she pulls it all together. 

The yard is the same, grill and fire pit and tire swing. Jughead remembers the summers spent out here and feels the air rush out of him. That feeling of being overwhelmed by the past rushes at him again. He should be prepared for it but he’s not. His chest feels tight and he’s sure that if he were alone, he’d be having a panic attack. Jellybean looks back at him and must see it all on his face. She smiles softly and takes his hand, guiding him over to the fire pit. 

“Have a seat, big brother,” she says with a smile. He rolls his eyes and flops down on the wooden bench. Jellybean sits next to him and ceremoniously holds out the bong to him. “After you.”

He takes the bong and takes a hit, trying his best not to cough and embarrass himself. Jellybean gives him a look that says she knows how exactly how hard he’s trying to save face and isn’t impressed. Jughead just rolls his eyes and takes another hit. 

“Greedy,” Jellybean mutters when she takes the bong back. Jughead exhales into the sky and watches the smoke curl away. Jellybean does the same and leans into his side. “It’s been too long, big brother.”

“I saw you at Christmas,” Jughead says, throwing his arm around her shoulders. She scoffs and takes another hit off the bong, exhaling into the sky. “What?”

“Been a while since you were home,” she says, voice husky from the smoke. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he asks. Jellybean might have been a grifter from an early age but she’s never been able to lie to Jughead. 

“I mean, I know Mom misses you,” she continues and Jughead sighs. It was only a matter of time before someone brought up his relationship with his mother. He hadn’t expected it from FP - his own relationship with Gladys Jones was too up and down for him to have any moral high ground to stand on - so the only other option was his sister. “And don’t start about the house and the business and the money, okay? She’s still our mom.”

“I wish it were that simple, Jelly,” Jughead mutters, shaking his head. He glances over at the Cooper’s backyard - his mother’s backyard. “But you know it’s not.”

“You forgave Dad for covering up a literal murder! For being a generally shitty fucking dad for years!” she snaps, pulling away from him. “But you can’t do the same for Mom? That’s _ bullshit _, Jughead.”

“Dad made an effort!” Jughead snaps back. He runs his hand through his hair and feels his scalp tingle. Jellybean rolls her eyes and puts the bong down before she throws it at him. “He made a fucking effort to do right by me. You weren’t here. You didn’t go through the shit that Dad and I did. So don’t judge what you don’t know.”

“What I _know_ is the shit you pulled to make sure he didn’t serve a full sentence,” Jellybean hisses. She narrows her eyes at him and turns to face him fully. “What I _know_ is what you took on to clear _his_ burden. Joining the Serpents? Maiming Penny Peabody? Don’t pretend that shit was done on your own, Jughead. We both know the shit you’ve done for Dad. Don’t pretend that I’m some clueless kid who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“You got to have mom to yourself,” Jughead says through clenched teeth. “You got her to yourself for two years and then when you came back, you got to be in on her scheme. You don’t know what it’s like to be on the outside, to be a piece in her game instead of a child - her child.”

“You think I don’t know?” Jellybean asks with a broken laugh. She wipes at her eyes quickly, smearing her mascara a little bit. Jughead’s stomach drops and he feels sick. He doesn’t know if it’s the weed or the guilt at making his little sister cry. “You’re right. I did get her to myself for two years but I was just as much a pawn on her board as you were. I’ve been that pawn for a lot longer than you but I seem to remember something that you don’t, Juggie.”

“And what’s that?”

“She’s our mom,” Jellybean says with a shrug. She picks up the bong again and scrapes down what’s left in the bowl, holding it out to him. He takes it, gratefully. His nerves are frayed and whatever high he’d had before was quickly fading in light of their conversation. “Jughead, she loves you and she misses you and, yes, she fucked up. We all did. But we’re still family.”

“You and Dad can forgive her,” he replies, keeping his voice calm and steady. He’s being stubborn. He knows that he is but he won’t let it go. He can’t. “I don’t begrudge you that. At all. But I just can’t, okay?”

“Dammit, Jughead!” Jellybean shouts, scraping her hair back from face and knocking her beanie free. She opens her mouth to say something else, to keep shouting at him, to keep trying to guilt him into a relationship that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for, but she cuts herself off and stares over his shoulder. “What?”

Jughead turns a little and is surprised to see Veronica, hovering on the back porch. He stands up, feeling his head spin a little, and walks over to her. She looks at him with wide eyes, “You okay?”

“Fine,” he replies with a confused frown. “What’s up?”

“We’re getting ready to leave,” she says, shrugging. “Thought you’d want to ride over with Betty and me.”

“Arch?”

“Going to take his truck with your sister,” Veronica says, nodding over Jughead’s shoulder. She takes a step closer to him and lowers her voice, reaching out to grip his forearm. His mind flashes to the diner when she’d rubbed her thumb back and forth over his skin, flashes to a hot tub years ago where her fingers had dug into his hair. It’s one hundred percent not the time for those kind of thoughts. “Everything okay?”

“You worried about me, Ronnie?” Jughead asks because he can’t help himself. She blinks a little at the nickname again but doesn’t comment on it. Though the corner of her mouth perks up a little. He leans forward a little, his hair falling into his eyes. She lets go of his forearm and brushes the loose locks out of the way, her fingers trailing against his forehead. “I’m fine. Just. Talking about my mom.”

“Ah,” she says with an understanding nod. “Well, as someone once told me, if she’s changing you can’t miss out on that chance, can you?” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “And how well did that work out for you?”

“Fuck you, Torombolo,” Veronica replies but there’s no heat behind her voice. She scans his face for a second before stepping away from him and looks over his shoulder again. “We’re heading out soon, Bean!”

“I’m coming,” Jellybean mutters while she clears out the bowl from the bong. She pockets her lighter again and grabs her bong before heading into the house. She kisses Veronica on the cheek loudly, smearing her lipstick all over Veronica’s cheek. “Thanks, V.”

“Come on, Torombolo,” Veronica says with a small laugh as she rubs her cheek. “Don’t want to be late.”

# -

The reunion itself isn’t anything to be excited about. They’ve dressed up the town hall with blue and gold streamers, brought in a halfway decent DJ, and hired Veronica’s rotating crew of bartenders to mix drinks. Jughead and Jellybean stay at the table that their group has claimed as their own, hoarding as many plates of hors d’oeuvres as they can. Veronica and Betty are dancing and Archie has been absorbed back into the football team. 

“Why am I here?” Jellybean asks for the millionth time, leaning back in her chair. She’d left the beanie at home, pulling her hair into a high bun and applying a fresh coat of lipstick. “I didn’t even graduate with you guys.”

“True but you are dating the class of 2020’s golden boy,” Jughead says, pointing across the room to where Archie is doing shots with Reggie and Moose. Jellybean makes a face. “You should probably go save him from himself, though.”

“My work is never done,” Jellybean agrees with a sigh. She ruffles Jughead’s hair before making her way across the dancefloor to where Archie is. Jughead watches her take the shot glass from his hand, tossing it back to the cheers of the team. 

“Um, why are you encouraging your sister to spend time with the football team?” Veronica asks as she sits down in Jellybean’s chair. “You do know that they are all functioning alcoholics at this point?”

“Veronica, we both know that Jellybean can drink all of them under the table,” Kevin says, sitting down next to her. Jughead just rolls his eyes and Kevin copies him. “Don’t say hello or anything, Forsythe.”

“Keller,” Jughead says with a little nod.

“It’s Fogarty now, actually,” Kevin says, flashing a gold wedding band. Jughead chokes on a canape and Veronica knocks on his back, not helping at all. Kevin just laughs and shakes his head. “God, I knew that would get you.”

“What?” Jughead chokes out.

“I didn’t marry Fangs,” Kevin replies with a sigh. “I met my husband in college and he has zero affiliations with any local gangs.”

“Good for you,” Jughead mutters, batting Veronica’s hand away. She hands him a cup of water and tries not to laugh. “You’re both dicks, by the way.”

“It was funny,” Veronica says, letting her laugh light up her entire face. Jughead smirks a little and can’t help but laugh a little as well. He’s sure that he’s staring again, maybe even leaning towards her, but he’s still stoned enough that he doesn’t care. “Learn to take a joke, Forsythe.”

“You know I hate it when you guys use my real name,” Jughead murmurs because he can’t think of anything else to say. Veronica glances at his mouth for the briefest second and, maybe, she’s leaning towards him as well. Or maybe she’s just tipsy. Her cheeks are pinker than usual, eyes brighter. 

“You love it when I use it,” she murmurs back. She rests her chin on her curled fist, elbow propped up on the table. He watches, amused, when she reaches out and snatches a chocolate covered strawberry from the plate in front of him. He blatantly watches the way her mouth wraps around the fruit and she blatantly watches him watch her.

“You know,” Kevin says, looking between the two of them and reminding them that they are not actually alone. Jughead leans back a little and clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. He’s sure that his cheeks are turning bright red but it might just be too dark for anyone to notice. “With all the couple swapping that we all did in high school, I’m surprised you two never got together.”

“Kevin!” 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, come on!” Kevin says with a laugh that Jughead doesn’t believe for a second. He has no doubt that Kevin’s on a mission assigned by Betty to get to the bottom of whatever is happening with Jughead and Veronica. Not that he can even say that something _ is _ happening but that’s not going to deter either of them. “It’s not an entirely outrageous concept is it?”

“Jughead? And me?” Veronica asks, laughing again. It sounds forced though and has Jughead watching her again with open interest. He’s sure Kevin’s noticed but Veronica’s reaction seems far more important than whatever it is that Keller thinks he’s seeing. “As a couple? How drunk are you, Kevin?”

“You’re sounding a little too insulted there, Lodge,” Kevin says with a sly smirk. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, eyeing the two of them. “Doth the lady protest too much, maybe?”

Now it was Jughead’s turn to laugh. Veronica pouts at him and he raises his eyebrows in question. She shrugs and tosses her hair over her shoulder, “You shouldn’t be so sure of yourself, Jones. You have no idea what was running through my teenage mind.”

“I can hazard a guess,” Jughead says, narrowing his eyes at her. She responds in kind and he can’t help but smirk a little. “I’d bet my last dollar that hoity-toity Veronica Lodge of the Park Avenue Lodges wouldn’t have spared trailer park, gang member Jughead Jones a second glance”

“You know what?” Veronica says, turning to Kevin with a very determined look on her face. Jughead knows that look, had seen that look a thousand times during every crisis that they’d encountered during high school. He knows that look but he’s not ready for whatever it is that she’s about to say. “When I first moved here in sophomore year, yes.”

“Yes?” Kevin asks, eyes lighting up with excitement. 

“I might have had the tiniest of crushes on Jughead,” Veronica mutters. Kevin claps his hands over his mouth in complete shock, gasping loudly. Jughead’s head is spinning. Of all the things that could have come out of this reunion, this is at the very bottom of the list. “There. I said it. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Kevin says breathlessly. He turns to Jughead with expectant eyes. “Jughead? Anything to add?”

Jughead barely even hears Kevin. Not when Veronica is staring at him expectantly. For what though? What could Veronica Lodge want from him? He doesn’t have a single fucking clue and he regrets getting as stoned as he did and that he doesn’t drink anymore after one too many benders in college. A stiff drink seems like the perfect thing right now. He’s half tempted to walk over to the bar just to get away from this moment but Veronica looks so damn beautiful in the half light and fuck. She liked him. Her. Veronica Lodge, back when she was the Queen Bee of Riverdale, liked _ him. _The world no longer makes any sense. He takes the easy out though and turns to Kevin with a glare. Kevin. who looks like the cat who got the canary, doesn’t even flinch. “What, Kevin?”

“Any long held confessions that you want to share with the group?” Kevin asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Why are we making long held confessions?” Betty asks as she leans down to hug Kevin before sitting down next to him. She sips on her drink and looks between the three of them. Her cheeks are flushed and she keeps glancing over her shoulder to the football team. Jughead wonders if that old flame with Reggie is still burning. “What are we talking about?”

“Veronica’s secret crush on Jughead,” Kevin supplies not taking his eyes off of Jughead.

Betty chokes on her drink, pressing a hand to her chest and coughing. Kevin finally turns away from Jughead and rubs Betty’s back, looking delighted. Jughead takes the chance to look at Veronica again. Her cheeks are pink and she’s actively avoiding his gaze. He’s not sure what she’s embarrassed about - the ancient crush, admitting it to Kevin, or admitting it to him. 

“When did you have a crush on Jughead?” Betty asks, leaning forward with bright eyes. She has that spark in her eye that Jughead remembers from their days at the Blue & Gold. He knows it doesn’t mean anything good for either of them. “And, more importantly, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“And when exactly was I supposed to tell you?” Veronica asks giving Betty a dry look. “Between the murders? Or during one of your many off-periods with Jughead?”

“Fair enough,” Betty says, rolling her eyes. Betty looks at Jughead with a sly smile as she leans back in her seat. She sips her drink again before asking the question that Kevin had started. “So? Jughead? Any old crushes you want to confess?”

“I don’t think confessing crushes to your ex-girlfriend is ever a good idea,” Veronica says, holding up her hands. She’s still avoiding his eyes. “Isn’t there enough embarrassment at this table? Do we really need more?”

“Come on, V,” Betty says, rolling her eyes with a happy smile. “Don’t you want to know?”

“I, for one, do!” Kevin chimes in, eyes on Jughead again. “This is better than the season finale of the Matchlorette.” 

“Jesus, Kevin,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. He sighs and sits up a little straighter, keeping his eyes on the table. Veronica said it and he can too and it’s in the past. What harm could it do now? “At one point. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Kevin asks, far too gleefully. “Maybe what, Jughead?”

“Don’t pressure him,” Betty insists, leaning forward as well. “He has to say it in his own time.”

Jughead glares at Betty across the table and takes a deep breath, “Yes, I had a crush on Veronica. Momentarily. It doesn’t matter anyways. It’s all in the past.”

“Exactly!” Veronica says instantly before turning to him with wide eyes. “Wait. What? You? When did you?”

“Full sentences, Veronica,” Betty says in a mock stage whisper.

“Nevermind,” Veronica says, shaking her head. She holds up her hands and lets out a slow breath. “With how crazy high school was and the timing and it doesn’t matter.” She looks at him with raised eyebrows, “Right?”

“Right,” Jughead agrees instantly. Betty snorts and he knows that he answered too quickly. “We moved on. Different relationships and I had Betty and Veronica had Archie.”

“And Reggie,” Kevin cuts in. “And Chuck. And Cheryl.”

“We get the point, Kevin,” Veronica snaps. She looks at Jughead again, cheeks still pink and eyes still searching his face. “And like Jughead said. We both moved on and it’s been over a decade. Let it go?”

“Yeah,” Jughead agrees, knowing that he’s not going to be letting it go anytime soon. “Let it go.”

# -

The night ends and the ballroom of town hall clears out except for the reunion committee. Jughead stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets and painfully sober, waiting for Archie to pry himself away from the football team and Jellybean to finish talking with Cheryl and Toni. The redhead watches him over his sister’s shoulder but she doesn’t approach. He’s sure that Toni said something about them having an understanding. If she hadn’t, he’s sure that Cheryl would have said something to him by now. 

Betty has disappeared somewhere with Reggie, surprising no one. According to Veronica, Reggie and Betty hooking up is something that happens every time Betty comes home. Jughead felt hurt for a split second that Betty hadn’t shared that little detail of her trips back home but it passes quickly when he remembers how little he wants to know about Reggie Mantle’s sex life.

Veronica is surfing through her instagram feed next to him. She’s swaying slightly making Jughead wonder just how many vodka sodas she’d actually had over the course of the night. She leans against him briefly, shoulder pressed against his side before she straightens up again and blinks at him owlishly, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head. He bumps her side gently with his own. “I am far more steady on my feet than you right now.”

“Are you implying that I’m drunk, Jughead?” Veronica asks with wide eyes. She flutters her lashes at him and sticks her nose in the air, managing to look down at him even though she’s shorter than him - even in heels. “I’ll have you know that Lodges don’t get drunk.”

“I have some very vivid memories from high school that beg to differ,” Jughead says with a laugh. “Pretty sure the the food fight that broke out during Senior Week was entirely because a certain Lodge was drunk.”

“It was a _ party _ and everyone was being boring,” Veronica replies, rolling her eyes. 

“And you were drunk,” Jughead says, nodding. “Just admit it, V. It is a night of confessions after all.”

Jughead’s stomach drops as soon as the words are out of his mouth. He’d already decided that he wasn’t going to bring it up again. He was just going to let it fade away into a vague memory that they can bring back up in another ten years. Veronica’s wide eyes tell him that she’d had the same idea as him. He tries to laugh it off and shakes his head, gesturing at Archie and Jellybean, “So what do you think of the most recent Jones-Andrews venture?”

“Well,” Veronica says, latching onto the not-so-subtle subject change. She smirks at him and turns to look at Jellybean and Archie. They’re leaning against each other while Cheryl laughs at something that Archie is trying to explain judging by his wild, gesturing hands. “Not quite the merger that I’d been expecting but they’re sweet and he makes her laugh. Something that’s not that easy to do. They get to be silly with each other. It’s good.”

“Good,” Jughead says with a nod. He’s not watching them anymore. He’s watching Veronica again. Not that that’s surprising at this point. She looks wistful, sad almost. “You okay, Ronnie?”

“Hm?” she asks, blinking at him slowly. He repeats his question but the sad look on her face doesn’t really go away. He can see that she’s trying to cover it up but there’s too much vodka in her system and it’s too late at night. “Fine, Torombolo.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. He doesn’t quite believe her. He bumps her shoulder and her smile softens a little, looks a little more genuine. “You _ can _ talk to me, you know. We’ve shared our deepest, darkest secrets with each other. We’re connected now.”

“My crush on you is not my deepest, darkest secret, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says, shaking her head. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers trail over her jaw before she wraps her hand around the front of her throat. It’s a practiced move but not practiced enough for Jughead to miss the way she’s shaking. “I don’t think you want to know my deepest, darkest secret.”

“I do,” he says sounding way more earnest than he wants. Veronica’s eyes widen and she licks her lips and he tracks the movement and they step a little closer to each other. “I want to know whatever you want to tell me.”

“Jughead Jones,” Veronica says. She looks at his mouth briefly and he swears that she leans forward a little, lifts up on her toes in her heels. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was a come on.”

“And what makes you think you know better?” he asks. She sways slightly and he reaches out to steady her, his hand heavy on her hip. The silk of her dress is cool and soft under his fingers and he rubs his thumb up slightly without thinking. Can you get drunk through contact? Like a contact-high? It’s the only explanation that Jughead can come up with to explain how fuzzy his head feels suddenly, how reckless his very subdued movements feel. 

“Pretty sure you couldn’t flirt to save your life,” she says. She’s smiling brightly now but her eyes are still hazy and far away. They’re still watching his mouth, though, so he hasn’t totally lost her. 

He’s trying to come up with the perfect come back. Something that could express the need he has to keep her close, to keep watching her, the stupid butterfly feeling in his stomach. He’s a writer but he knows that whatever it is he’s about to say isn’t going to be good enough. Not for her. He opens his mouth but he’s saved by Jellybean throwing her arms around both of their necks, “We’re drunk and walking home. What are you two doing?”

Archie wraps his arms around Jellybean’s waist and hooks his chin over her shoulder. He wiggles his eyebrows at the two of them and Jughead pulls his hand away from Veronica. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and he thinks there’s some disappointment in the downward tilt of her mouth. He doesn’t like it. 

“You should come over,” Archie says. He leans his head against Jellybean and she nods for the two of them. “Hang out some more. It’s not too late.”

“It’s after midnight, Archiekins,” Veronica says with a sigh. She pinches his cheek and kisses Jellybean’s. “Some of us have work in the morning. We’re hosting the brunch, remember?”

“Right, right,” Archie says, rolling his eyes. He looks at Jughead with raised eyebrows. “Juggie? Coming over?”

“He’s walking Veronica home,” Jellybean cuts in before Jughead can answer. She raises her eyebrows at him and cuts a look at Veronica quickly. “Aren’t you?”

“If she wants?” Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes at his sister. Archie isn’t catching onto the silent Jones conversation that they’re having. He’s sure that Veronica is though. “I didn’t know I was on security guard duty tonight.”

“You’re being a gentleman,” Jellybean insists. “Riverdale isn’t as hunky-dory as it used to be.”

“Hunky-dory?” Archie repeats, frowning. Both Jellybean and Jughead ignore him. 

“I’m sure Veronica can walk herself home,” Jughead says. He’s not going to back down in this. Whatever it is that Jellybean is trying to push, Jughead doesn’t want to be victim to it. “She’s a big girl.”

“I’m not saying that she’s not,” Jellybeans says, rolling her eyes. She leans into Archie a little more, finally relaxing her hold on Jughead and Veronica. Jughead takes a half-step back but Veronica doesn’t. Her eyes haven’t left Jughead once since Jellybean suggested he walk her home. She also hasn’t said anything. He’s not sure what to do with that. “I’m just saying that instead of being a loner, loser jerk, you could be a half-way decent friend and walk Veronica home since it’s not on the way back to Elm Street.”

“Since when is the Pembrooke not on the way back to Elm Street?” Jughead asks, frowning. The layout of the town hasn’t changed since he’s been gone. The measly twenty four hours that he’s spent in Riverdale has shown him that much. 

“You’re such a moron,” Jellybeans replies. 

“Seriously, dude,” Archie agrees with a sagely nod. Jughead raises his eyebrows at both of them, shooting Veronica a look but she’s still keeping quiet. “Ronnie moved, like, years ago.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Jughead snaps. 

“You could have asked,” Veronica finally chimes in. They all look at her with wide eyes but she’s still watching Jughead. She tilts her head and looks him over, dragging her eyes up his body from his Dr Martens to the top of his head. “Come on, Torombolo. Walk me home and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Are you sure?” Archie asks. Jughead almost snaps at him to butt out. It had been his girlfriend’s idea after all. Who cares that Jellybean also happened to be his sister? “We were just joking.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Jellybean says with a shrug. She turns around and wraps her arms around Archie’s neck, turning her back on Jughead and Veronica. “How about you worry about taking me home, lover boy?”

Archie’s smile goes a little more crooked and his eyes get a little more hazy. Jughead pointedly looks away when the redhead leans in to kiss his little sister. He doesn’t need that memory in his brain. Veronica is smirking a little, all too amused by his big brother being grossed out by his sister routine. He rolls his eyes and jerks his head towards the parking lot. She holds out an elbow and he loops his hand through it, gesturing for her to lead the way. 

It’s cool out, the warmth of the day breaking in the late hours of the night. It feels good against his cheeks. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been blushing until he felt the breeze against his skin. Veronica shivers a little and he wishes that he had brought a jacket to offer her. Instead, he frees his arm from her elbow and wraps it around her shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down her upper arm. 

“You know, it’s customary to ask before pulling a smooth move like that,” Veronica says but she leans into his side all the same. She guides them away from town hall, towards the train tracks that Jughead knows so well. He keeps his comment to himself but it must be clear on his face. “Yes, before you ask, I live on the Southside. Not Sunnyside. I do have more class than that.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not,” Jughead mutters but he doesn’t move his arm from her shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t be,” she offers. “You got out, after all.”

“Got out and never came back,” Jughead mutters.

“Until now.”

“Until now,” he agrees with a nod. They’re coming up on a row of houses, nothing like Elm Street and it’s no trailer park but it’s still not the nicest of neighborhoods. “Is this you?”

“Third house from the end,” Veronica says with a nod. The house in question has flowers in the yard and the porch is painted a deep blue. The light is on and there’s a welcome mat in front of the door. “Archie helped me fix it up. It’s not much but it’s mine.”

“When’d you move in?” Jughead asks. He’s pretty sure of the answer already but he doesn’t want to assume. 

“Right after you left town,” Veronica says as she pulls out her house keys. Jughead’s hold on her loosens but she glares up at him until he tightens his arm around her shoulders again. “After my parents were locked up for the last time.”

“Right,” Jughead nods. “Of course.”

“Of course,” she sighs before opening the door. “Don’t worry, Jughead, I don’t blame you from my fall from financial grace. Though your meddling did have a large part in them being locked away.”

“It was for the good of the town,” Jughead defends and it feels like being back in senior year, back in his leather jacket and having this same argument with her then. “You know that.”

“I do know that,” Veronica agrees as she steps through the threshold. Jughead stays on the porch, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them to himself. Veronica looks at him over her shoulder as she pulls her heels off, sinking down a good three inches. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“I didn’t want to presume,” Jughead mutters. 

“That would be a first,” she replies, smiling softly. Veronica leans against the doorframe and wraps her arms around her waist. “I thought you finally wanted to know what I’ve been up to for the past ten years?”

“If you wanted to tell me,” Jughead says with a shrug. He does want to know, wants to know badly, but he’s not going to force himself into her home. He’s not a total heathen. “I could just go back to the trailer.”

“I’m sure FP is wondering where you are,” Veronica says with a nod. She bites her bottom lip and Jughead watches the way her skin turns a brighter pink around her teeth. Her lipstick is entirely gone, gracing various glass rims and napkins instead. She hadn’t reapplied all night, too busy laughing and drinking and dancing. He likes her mouth without it’s war paint. “If you’d rather go home, Jughead, I won’t begrudge you that.”

“What do you want?” he asks without thinking. This is the most they’ve ever talked, just the two of them, but she’s been playing everything so close to the chest. Everything except her little confession at the table. But Jughead doesn’t count that. (He does. He totally does.) 

“I want,” Veronica says, standing up straight. She reaches out a hand, wiggling her fingers for him to latch onto. She runs her thumb over his knuckles and he shivers a little, feels goosebumps run up his arm. She tugs him forward a little so that their chests are barely an inch apart. She looks up at him through her lashes and plays with one of the buttons of his shirt. “To know what it’s like to kiss Jughead Jones.”

Jughead scoffs no instinct. It bursts out of him, nervous and unbelieving, but Veronica doesn’t look away from his mouth. He licks his lips and shivers again when her own mouth opens just the tiniest bit in a sigh. 

“You have kissed me before,” Jughead mumbles. “Unless you’ve forgotten?”

“I haven’t,” she says, shaking her head. “But I want to know what it’s like to kiss you when it’s just for us not an audience. Aren’t you curious?”

“Curious?” he repeats. He leans towards her and she lifts up on her toes. There’s a thrumming under his skin raditating from where she’s holding onto his hand. 

“About what it’s like to kiss me?” 

He can feel each word brush against his lips, can smell the alcohol on her breath and the floralness of her hair. 

“Well, Jughead? Are you?”

He doesn’t answer just closes the gap between their mouths. Veronica leans into him and exhales loudly through her nose. Her hand on his chest grips his shirt, a finger slipping between the buttons and scratching at his chest. He raises his free hand and cups the back of her head, opens her mouth with his tongue and a groan. 

Their kiss stays slow and sweet but deep, tongues barely touching. Jughead pushes her against the doorframe, frees his hand from her grasp to mold to her side. The silk of her dress was thin and cool in his fingers. Her skin was warm through the fabric. He’s sure that if it were just skin on skin he’d melt from the heat of her. 

She raises a leg, wrapping her calf around his own, and lifting herself up onto the tips of her toes. Jughead slides his hand from her waist to her thigh, holding her steady, and presses a thigh between her legs. He can feel her smile against his mouth and nips at her bottom lip in response, soothing it immediately with his tongue. 

Veronica pulls away, chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. Jughead’s eyes can’t help but greedily take in the image of her heaving chest. He did that to her. It’s a good feeling. 

“You should go home,” she murmurs, bringing his attention back to her face. Her lips are puffy and kiss swollen, eyes hazy with lust. He’s sure that he doesn’t look much different. “Before we do something that you’ll regret.”

“You think I’m going to regret this?” Jughead asks before leaning down to kiss her again. She touches his jaw lightly and lets him for only a few moments. 

“Maybe I’ll regret it,” she whispers against his mouth. That freezes him to his core. “Regret waiting so long to have you. Regret that it’s only going to be tonight and that’s it. Not sure that’d be enough, Jones.”

“What are you talking about?” Jughead asks. He has an idea. A crazy idea but he wants to hear it from her own lips. 

“You think one night is enough for me?” Veronica asks. She tilts her head back a little but keeps her hand on his jaw, rubs her thumb over his cheek. She sighs and tilts her head a little, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “One night is never enough and I don’t want to start something I’m not going to get to finish.”

“You think this is the beginning of something? Not just scratching a very old itch?” Jughead asks. The thought makes those butterflies come back with a vengeance. He thinks he’s going to be sick from the yearning he suddenly feels, the need for this to mean something to her. It means something to him. He doesn’t know _ what _ it means but it means _ something _.

“Are you fishing for a compliment?” Veronica asks with a slight laugh. He kisses it off her mouth, finds it hard to _ not _ kiss her now that he’s gotten the chance. “Do you think this is the beginning of something?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“Something good?”

“Something very, very good,” he says, voice going low and rumbling. She shivers a little and sighs, squeezing the leg that’s still wrapped around his calf. He lifts his thigh a little higher, brushes against the warm apex of her thighs. 

“Then come inside, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says, tugging on his shirt. Jughead has no problem following her into the house, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

# -

“So,” Betty says as they settle into their seats on the plane. She looks at Jughead with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk on her face. “Veronica.”

Jughead doesn’t bother to turn to her. He goes through the motions of getting his seat comfortable, pulls out his book and puts his phone on airplane mode. There’s a text from Veronica waiting for him. No words, just a lipstick kiss emoji that turns his cheeks red. Betty peers over his shoulder and snorts when she sees what he’s looking at. 

“Don’t even start, Betts,” Jughead mumbles as he clears the message away. 

“Start what?” Betty asks, all faux innocence with her big green eyes. “I just asked a very simple question.”

“There’s nothing simple about what you’re asking,” Jughead says. He gives the flight attendant a tight-lipped smile and turns down the offer of a blanket for the overnight flight. He never sleeps on planes. 

“I’m your best friend, Juggie,” Betty complains. She takes the offered blanket and quickly bundles up in her seat, leaning her head against his shoulder. “And Veronica is my other best friend. I feel like I should be informed when said best friends start hooking up.”

“You want to talk about friends hooking up with friends? What about Reggie?” Jughead counters. 

“So you’re friends with Reggie, are you?” Betty asks with a giggle. Jughead rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulder, jostling Betty’s head. She looks up at him with a slight frown. “You’re not actually mad at me for keeping it a secret?”

“I just don’t get _ why _ the secret,” Jughead replies. “I mean, other than your obvious shame at still hooking up with Reggie Mantle.”

“He’s not that bad!” Betty half-shouts, smacking at his shoulder. Jughead raises his eyebrows at her and she sighs, burying her face back into his shoulder. “He’s better than he was and it’s only when our visits back home line up and we’re both single. It doesn’t . . . it doesn’t mean anything.”

“You sure about that?” Jughead asks. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and rests his cheek against the top of her head. The plane has taken off and the safety video is quietly loudly on the TVs. “I mean, repeat occurrences beg to differ. You know how to spot a pattern, Betts. Better than anyone.”

“Yeah, well,” she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. “Reggie hasn’t changed _ that _ much. I still don’t know what he wants.”

“Could start with asking him,” Jughead offers knowing that she isn’t going to take his advice. Not that he has any room to talk. His romantic situation isn’t much better. “Try being up front and all that.”

“Up front isn’t exactly Reggie’s style,” Betty says. Jughead snorts. That’s nothing like the Reggie Mantle he remembers from their high school days. Then again nothing seems to be the same from their high school days. Shocking, he knows. Betty sighs again and shakes her head. “How did we even get talking about my thing with Reg? We were talking about your thing with Veronica.”

“There is no thing with Veronica,” he says. It’s not the total truth but he’s on a plane back to Portland and Veronica is still in Riverdale. They’d both said that this was something that they wanted, something worthwhile but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re on opposite sides of the country. 

“You spent the entire weekend flirting with her,” Betty says, counting off on her fingers. “You confessed to a secret crush. A secret crush that she reciprocated. And then you spent the night with her. I’d call all of that a thing. By definition, that’s a _ thing _.”

“Well, we’re heading back to Portland and she’s still in Riverdale and we just,” Jughead tries to explain with a weak shrug. “Timing is off. That’s all.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a writer,” Betty says with a laugh. “Like you’re paid for your words.”

“Very funny,” Jughead grumbles. He runs a hand down his face and sighs, leaning his head back. Betty looks up at him again, her chin digging into his shoulder. “Yes. There is a thing. But we’re so far apart and we’re never going to see each other and we didn’t properly talk about it.” 

“There’s this thing called the internet, Jug,” Betty says softly. “Long distance doesn’t mean what it used to.”

“But it’s not weird?” Jughead asks. “Me and Veronica. Your ex-boyfriend and your best friend talking?”

“Not at all,” Betty says with a shrug. “It makes sense a little bit. You two are so similar, you’ve always been so similar. It used to drive me nuts in school because you could have been such great friends if you could just _ see _ how similar you were.”

“Pretty sure we both saw it, Betts,” Jughead replies. 

“You know,” Betty says, considering. “On second thought, maybe it’s better that you didn’t get to know each other back then. Might have ruined my shot.” 

Jughead sighs and tilts his head back, closing his eyes, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You’re not sounding very reassuring, Jughead,” Betty says but he can hear the teasing in her voice. “You’re supposed to reassure me that I was the only one for you in high school, Juggie.”

“You were the only one for me in high school, Betty Cooper,” Jughead repeats back in a non-convincing monotone. Betty laughs and finally settles into her own seat, shifting her weight off of his side. “There was no one else for me and I never saw any other girl while we were dating.”

“Alright, Jones, I get it,” she mutters. “I get it.”

# -

“Betty! Someone’s at the door!” Jughead calls from his office. He doesn’t pull his eyes away from his laptop reluctant to break the writing stride that he’s on. He’s about to open his mouth to shout again when Betty comes into the room and points at the phone at her ear. “Really?”

She tilts the phone away from her mouth and hisses, “It’s my mother. _ You _get the door.”

“But,” he starts but doesn’t finish before Betty marches away. Jughead groans when the knocking on the door continues but he gets up from his computer anyways. He doesn’t even check the peephole before yanking the door open with an annoyed, “Yes?”

“Is that how you always open your door?” Veronica asks with a laugh. She adjusts the bag hanging off her shoulder and crosses her arms. Jughead just stands there staring at her with wide eyes. “Jughead?”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, knowing how rude he sounds but he can’t help himself. Veronica doesn’t even look fazed by it. “I mean, come in.”

“Thanks, Torombolo,” she says softly, reaching out to squeeze his forearm before slipping past him into the apartment. “Betty knew I was coming but I guess she didn’t mention it to you?”

“Clearly not,” he says as he shuts the door. He takes a minute to slow down his racing heart before turning to face her. She’s inspecting the photos on the wall, a small smile on her face. “So, what brings you to the west coast?”

“Needed a vacation,” she says with a shrug. Her smile grows a little when she sees their prom picture proudly on display on the mantle. It had been Betty’s idea to put it there despite his complaints about forgetting all things high school. “Can’t believe you guys kept this one.”

“Well, you know Betty,” he says, coming up to stand next to her. “She’s a sucker for nostalgia.”

“That she is,” Veronica says not taking her eyes off of the picture. Her hair is a little longer, braided and trailing down her back. She’s not wearing a jacket, a bold move considering that it’s freezing and raining outside. Typical weather for Portland and not all that different from fall in Riverdale. “How’ve you been?”

Jughead jolts a little and tries to control his voice when he answers, “Fine. Busy with work and stuff.”

“Stuff?” Veronica asks, turning to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Your book, maybe?”

Jughead narrows his eyes at her, “You and Betty talk too much.”

“How else am I supposed to know what you’re up to?” she asks with a laugh. It’s not the sweet, melodious laugh that she usually has. It’s angry and bitter and Jughead hates it. He hates it but he knows that he deserves it. “It’s not like I asked her for a report on you, by the way. She just shared some exciting news. News that could have come from you if you had been talking to me.”

“It’s not that I’m not talking to you,” Jughead says not believing himself as he says it. It reeks of bullshit and Veronica’s raised eyebrow tells him that she knows as much. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy,” Veronica repeats with a nod. She sighs and rubs at her eyes, yawning quietly. “I told you that I didn’t want to do anything if this was going to be the outcome, Jughead. You said you agreed. That you didn’t want whatever it is that’s happening between us now to happen.”

“I remember,” Jughead says. And he does. He remembers everything about that night in stark detail. When he lets his mind wanders, he goes over every detail, remembers how her skin tasted, the way her spine arched, how she felt in his hands. “And I meant what I said.”

“You meant it, you just couldn’t stick to it,” Veronica mutters. He opens his mouth to say something else, anything to defend himself but she holds up a hand. “Look, I’m here to visit Betty and to get a break from Riverdale. I’m not here to berate you or make you feel bad or anything like that. If you want to pretend that the reunion was a one-off fluke, so be it. I won’t fight you about it, Jughead.”

“Veronica,” he says. His chest aches. That’s not what he wants. It’s never been what he wanted but he’s dug his grave. He might as well lie in it. “How long are you in town for?”

“A week,” she says but he can hear the disappointment in her voice. She wants him to fight her on it. He can see it in the way her eyes dim a little bit and her shoulders sag. Not for the first time, Jughead is left wondering just when it was that he learned to read Veronica Lodge so well. “As much as this vacation is needed, I can’t be away from Pop’s for too long. Gladys is a more than competent stand-in but I don’t want to overstep.”

“Gladys? You left my mom in charge of Pop’s while you’re out of town?” Jughead asks. Veronica stares him in the eye and doesn’t back down from his obvious displeasure. He’s half-sure that she brought up his mother on purpose to get the fight that he doesn’t want to give. “Seriously? After everything that happened between you two?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t forgiven her, Jughead,” Veronica says with a shrug. “And all of that was just business. My father’s business. Her issues were never with me personally.”

“Right, she just blackmailed you into paying her a stupid amount of money,” Jughead snaps, rolling his eyes. “Just water under the bridge, right?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” Veronica says, tone just as short as his own. “Water under a bridge that I built brick by brick. She’s not my mom. I don’t have abandonment issues when it comes to her so if I choose to forgive and move on that’s my business, Forsythe.”

“Guys?” Betty asks as she steps into the living room. They both turn to her and that’s what Jughead realizes just how close he’s gotten to Veronica. She notices as well and quickly takes a step back. “Everything okay?”

“Did you know that my mom works with Veronica?” Jughead asks because he’s a sucker for punishment. Betty’s cheeks burn pink and she manages to shrug and nod at the same time. “Jesus fucking christ.”

“I didn’t think you needed to know and you always get so tense when it comes to your mom,” Betty says in a rush, moving towards him with hands out. Jughead backs up and shakes his head. He’s good on being touched right now. “I mean, it’s V’s business and it has nothing to do with you.”

“Of course it has something to do with me!” Jughead shouts. “What you think her getting involved with Dad again and Jellybean and Archie and, now, Veronica doesn’t have anything to do with me? That’s rich.”

“God, Jughead, you’re still just as narcissistic now as when we were sixteen,” Veronica says, rolling her eyes. Jughead scoffs and glares at her but she’s already turning to Betty. “Do we really need to stick around for his meltdown? Your girl is in desperate need of a post-flight cocktail.”

“Yeah, of course,” Betty mutters, staring at Jughead with wide, guilty eyes. She reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it once before turning to the closet for her boots and jacket. Jughead and Veronica watch her silently, neither of them willing to back down from the half-argument that they’d been having. “I was thinking I can pick up thai for dinner. Juggie? That okay?”

“Yeah, whatever you want, Betts,” Jughead agrees. She’s trying to say sorry without actually speaking the words and it makes him feel like shit. He sighs. “It’s fine, Betty. This whole thing with my mom. It’s not. It’s not on you or anyone else. It’s just. You know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says, shrugging her jacket on and coming back to him. She pulls him into a tight hug, pressing her face to his neck. Jughead returns the hug and stares at Veronica over Betty’s shoulder. She’s watching him back, eyes sad and so goddamn beautiful. He’s so absorbed in those eyes that he barely hears Betty whisper against his skin. “Don’t be mad at her. She really does care, Jug.”

Something flickers in Veronica’s eyes that Jughead doesn’t have time to decipher but it’s enough indication for him to know that she heard Betty. He wants to say something but he doesn’t know what he could say that would make this moment better, that would take back whatever bullshit that’s happened since Veronica walked through his door. He doesn’t get to figure out what those words could be though before Betty pulls away from him and grabs Veronica’s hand, dragging her out of the apartment and leaving Jughead on his own. 

# -

It’s only a few days before Jughead and Veronica are left alone for the night. Betty has to work the night shift at the hospital as part of her rotation and she’s gone by the time Jughead gets home from the magazine’s office. Veronica is perched on the couch, a blanket over her lap and a book open in her hands. She’s reading _ What We Talk About When We Talk About Love _ and it squeezes something in his chest. 

“How was your day at the office, darling?” she asks, looking at him over the edge of the book. She smiles slightly, lowering the book and taking her glasses off. “Dinner is in the stove and the kids are all tucked into bed.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jughead replies, swallowing the lump in his throat. He drops his bag and shrugs off his jacket before throwing himself onto the couch next to her. He snags the book from her fingers and flips through the pages. It’s his copy, his favorite lines highlighted and his scrawl in the margins. “Doing some light reading, are we?”

“Had to pass the time somehow,” she says with a shrug. She rests her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her head against her balled fist. She reaches out her free hand to run it down the spine of the book, landing next to his knee. “How old is this copy anyways?”

“Had it since highschool,” Jughead mutters. His eyes are glued to her hand. Her nailpolish is chipping and there’s a scar running the back of her hand that he’s just noticing. He wants to ask her about it. He wants to kiss it. “Thus the notes and highlighting.”

“Such heavy stuff to be reading at the ripe old age of sixteen,” she says. She drums her fingers and they brush against his knee. He shifts a little, lets his knee nudge her hand. She takes the invitation for what it is and covers his knee, rubbing the fabric of his pants between her forefinger and thumb. “No wonder you were such a downer in high school.”

“Not everyone can be the life of the party, Ronnie,” he mumbles. Just like during the reunion, her eyes flash when he uses the nickname but the smile on her seems to brighten so he counts it as something in his favor. He needs all the bonus points that he can get considering he decides that now is the time to talk about what happened the night of the reunion, of how he acted afterwards. “About the reunion. That night. Ronnie, I. I never meant to hurt you or . . . or lie to you.”

“I know, Jughead,” she replies, sighing. She pulls her hand back but Jughead reaches out to stop her, cradling her hand between both of his. Her hand is soft and warm like he remembers and he traces the scar on the back of her hand. “I just hoped that it would have played out differently, you know? I don’t want to be some box that you ticked, some conquest from high school that you never got.”

“You’re not that,” Jughead insists, shaking his head. He pulls her hand to chest and reaches out to cup her cheek. She leans into his palm and he smiles a little. “You’ve never been that. Not to me, Veronica. I mean, Jesus, how could you be? You’re . . . fuck, you’re everything and more. Don’t you get that?”

“Kind of hard to when a guy doesn’t talk to you for months after you sleep with him,” Veronica mumbles, rolling her eyes. To his utter horror, her eyes start to shine with unshed tears. She must see it on his face because she laughs and covers his hand on her face with her own. “Don’t worry, Torombolo. You’re not making me cry. It’s just. You play the confident girl for so long and everyone forgets that you’re just like everyone else. That you have doubts and fears and feelings that can be hurt. And I’m tired of it, Jughead.”

“I’m sorry that I forgot,” he mutters. “I really, really am.”

“I know you are,” she says with a nod. They’re quiet for a second, staring into each other’s eyes, and it’s nice. It’s the kind of quiet he doesn’t imagine he could share with anyone else. Not after the kind of conversation that they’ve started. “You know I haven’t slept with anyone since college?”

“What?” Jughead asks, shocked. He clears his throat and tries to regain some semblance of cool. “I mean. That’s. That’s something.”

Veronica laughs and pushes at his chest a little, freeing her hand. She lets go of the one on her face and he finally pulls back from her. She doesn’t let him get very far before she curls into his side and rests her head against his shoulder, “Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not,” he says instantly. He is. He definitely is just the tiniest bit. It's not something freak out about but he can’t help the way his heart is pounding in his chest and his stomach is twisting up in knots. “What’s there to freak out about?”

“I mean, being the one to break my six year dry spell is something that I think you would freak out about, Jug,” Veronica mutters. She’s tracing patterns on his stomach through his shirt and he focuses entirely on the movement of her fingers. “You’re a writer. A man who is all about metaphors and deep meanings. I’m sure there’s a part of you that’s dissecting my decision and trying to ascribe a deeper meaning to it.”

“Would I be right though?” Jughead asks. Their voices are quiet, barely more than whispers. Jughead isn’t sure why they’re speaking so low but it feels right in the moment, it feels like if they speak any louder they’ll ruin whatever it is that’s happening. 

“I don’t know,” Veronica answers after a long moment. She shrugs and flattens her hand against his stomach, sliding it up his chest. She toys with the collar of his shirt, the tips of her fingers brushing against his skin. He shivers because he can’t help it and her nails dig a little harder into his skin. “Does it need to have a deeper meaning? Can it just be the right time and the right person?”

“I’ll take that,” he says. He swallows loudly and presses his mouth to the top of her hair. He inhales the smell of her shampoo and commits the floral notes to his memory. “Sounds good to me.”

“You’re still the right person, you know,” she says. She tilts her head back and his lips brush against her forehead. He takes the chance and presses a firmer kiss to her skin before pulling back to look down at her. She’s biting her bottom lip and he wants to kiss the pink flesh. “Despite you freaking out and essentially ghosting me, you’re still the right person and this is still the right time.”

“That’s. That’s really good to know,” he chokes out. Veronica smirks and searches his face for something. “And all of that is the same for me. The being the right person and the right time. And the, you know, dry spell.”

“I am forever amazed that people actually pay for your writing when you can barely string together a sentence in front of me,” Veronica says with a laugh. She drags the back of her fingers up his jaw. He turns his face, mouth chasing after her hand. He catches it and press her palm to his mouth, giving it an open-mouthed kiss that elicits a sharp inhale from her. She presses closer to him, moulding her chest against his side and semi-straddling his thigh. “Is this crazy, Jughead?”

“Not any crazier than anything that we lived through during high school,” he mutters. He kisses her palm again, kisses her wrist, the inside of her elbow. He wants to take the time and kiss every inch of her. He hadn’t done it that night because he was too scared, too nervous about making her come. “Are you second-guessing yourself already?”

“Something like that,” she says, breathy and on the cusp of a moan. “I mean, we live on different coasts. Different time zones. Long-distance is hard for the strongest of couples.”

“Are we a couple, Veronica?” Jughead mutters as he mouth meets the edge of her t-shirt. He sits up a little and looks at her with dazed eyes. She’s panting and her eyes are glossy, focused entirely on his mouth. He leans down and bypasses her mouth, pulling the collar of her shirt to the side so that he can kiss her shoulder. “Is that what you want?”

“Is it what _ you _ want?” she whispers, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. He bites down on the spot where her shoulder meets her neck and she hisses, hand coming up to clutch the back of his head. “Juggie, please.”

“I want you, Veronica,” Jughead whispers in her ear. “In whatever way you’ll let me. For however long you’ll let me. I just want you.”

Veronica tilts his head so that she can kiss him soundly. Her nails scrape against his scalp and he groans into her mouth. His teeth nip at her bottom lip and he can feel her smile into the kiss. When they pull apart from each other they’re both gasping for air but they don’t pull apart far enough to actually stop kissing. They keep brushing their mouths against each other, pausing to breathe or laugh or smile. 

“You know,” Veronica mutters. “This is probably a really bad idea.”

“Probably,” Jughead agrees even though he doesn’t really feel it. He kisses along her jaw, teeth scraping against her skin, because he can’t help himself. Because she lets him, sighing and pulling his hair a little. “But then again. I’ve never been known for my stellar judgement.”

“I expect better from myself,” Veronica says. Jughead can hear the hints of her old haughtiness creeping into her voice but it doesn’t hold the same bite when she’s breathless from his kisses. “All of my decisions tend to be amazing ones.”

“Then I don’t see why this one would be any different,” he replies with a shrug. He pulls back enough to look her in the eye and raises his eyebrows. “Pretty sure our two track records cancel each other out, anyways.”

“That’s a very solid point, Forsythe,” Veronica says, smiling up at him. She runs her thumb over his mouth and sighs. “I like you so much, Jones. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Probably about as ridiculous as how much I like you,” Jughead says with a serious nod. Veronica laughs and it’s like music to his ears. “Pretty sure our highschool selves would be having heart attacks right about now.”

“Thank god we’re not in high school anymore,” Veronica replies as she sits up, pushing him back a little. She straddles his lap and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, Jones?”

“Absolutely, Lodge,” Jughead mutters, reaching up to cup the back of her neck and pulling her down for another kiss. “Absol-fucking-utely.”


End file.
